


Everything You Touch Surely Dies

by TooManyFandomstoCount



Category: Arrow (TV 2012)
Genre: Blackmail, Consent Issues, Dubious Consent, Emotional/Psychological Abuse, Gang Rape, I don't want to have to explain myself again, I respect that some people don't like this kind of stuff, Implied/Referenced Torture, Loss of Virginity, M/M, Multi, Non-Consensual, Non-Consensual Blow Jobs, Psychological Torture, WIP, and if you have a problem with it just leave the fic alone, but seriously if rape fics aren't your thing don't read this, please respect that there is a niche that does read/write this, read these tags
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-07-06
Updated: 2018-11-28
Packaged: 2018-11-28 12:09:58
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 8
Words: 15,746
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11417682
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TooManyFandomstoCount/pseuds/TooManyFandomstoCount
Summary: Adrian Chase does more than talk and beat Ollie when he has him imprisoned. He wants to break Oliver down completely, so he uses a torture most haven't thought of in Ollie's past: rape.Mostly just extra scenes I'm putting in. Chase is a cuckoohead, but he believes he wants to help Ollie.Tie in from 5-17(Kapiushon) to 5-23(Lian Yu). Nobody dies on the island (Except Boomer. He can go trip and bash his head open on a rock for all I care.).





	1. Powerless

**Author's Note:**

> Title taken from Let Her Go by Passenger because it's what Chase wants Ollie to think.  
> Story is planned out, 2 chapters completed.  
> Much thanks to Arrow_FanGirl for looking it over and Minny_16 for her ideas, as well as everyone who offered help and input on my Beta Exchange request.  
> Chapters 1-4 are in S5E17, 5-6 are ambiguous (but before the finale), 7-10 tie in to the finale, and the rest come after.  
> (this chapter is in Chase's perspective)  
> Enjoy.

Adrian Chase looked down at his prisoner hungrily. _Revenge is sweet_ , he thought to himself. _However cliché that may sound. He deserves this! He took my father away from me, so I will take something away from him._

The prisoner in question was growling like a caged animal, hard muscles bulging as he struggled. His attempts to escape were hindered by the chains around his wrists attached to a steel ring on the ground.

He hadn’t always been this feral. In fact, he’d started out calm and accepting of his position when Chase first captured him, annoyingly unwilling to give Adrian any kind of response.

But then Adrian had shown him a wall full of monitors. The numerous screens showed Oliver Queen his loved ones as they went about their daily business. In the center was his son, William. There were also some criminals he’d helped put away, which seemed to confuse him.

At first, Chase left him alone to watch the screens. His prisoner gave him satisfying reactions, like the grin when William showed his perfect report card to his mother. The vigilante allowed himself to frown when Felicity went to dangerous people to help find him, losing her innocence in small ways. He was puzzled when he saw some of the jailed evildoers getting tortured and beaten. Though there was no sound, he could read their lips as they said his name with vehemence after hearing something that made their eyes narrow.

After three days of this, Chase began. His torture was subtle: a few comments here, some threats there, and his prisoner did not react in the slightest. One day, Chase cut off Oliver’s shirt. This got him an eyebrow raise, but Queen said nothing. The criminals on the monitors started to look a bit hungry, and it took a carefully trained eye for the captive mayor to realize they were not in prison, but sitting in front of green screens. As they made vulgar motions to the cameras, he started to show a worry line in his forehead as he likely figured out what was happening. It wasn’t much, but Chase reveled in getting the man to show some kind of reaction.

Adrian grinned when he realized nobody had threatened this before. _Good. I’ll have a clean slate_ , he thought to himself, as he devised some plans on how to break his victim.

Oliver looked up at him as he entered the room, rage in his blue eyes. “What do you think will happen?” he asked Chase tonelessly.

Chase smirked. “I think you’ll start to see the world a little differently. I think you’ll learn to always come back to me. I think you’ll have another secret to hide from your friends when I let you go.” His dark eyes flooded with promise.

Oliver growled for the first time, a reaction that made Chase’s blood migrate to his nether regions. His lust must have showed up on his face because the ex-mayor looked away in disgust.

“Ollie, you are going to learn to do what I say. When I let you go, you will be mine and nobody will know. I have cameras on your loved ones, so I’ve got significant leverage. I want you to suck my dick, Mister Mayor. If you resist I’ll just have to bring your sister here. Or maybe Felicity. What is she to you exactly? Or little William could see what happens when Daddy doesn’t listen.”

Oliver growled in his bonds, more feral than Chase had ever seen him. He was rock hard from the small victories, like getting a real reaction to his torture.

“If you bite me, I’ll have that zombie Sampson put his prick in your mouth. He can’t feel pain, so he’ll just keep going no matter what you do. Now open up your mouth Oliver. It’s time you learn the only thing you’ll ever be good for.” Chase felt pleasure coursing through his body when he saw Oliver’s renewed struggles and the actual terror in his eyes.

Reluctantly, the man stopped struggling and opened his mouth. Adrian unbuttoned his pants and pulled down his boxers, exposing his dick. Oliver closed his eyes and licked experimentally, before taking the head in his mouth.

Chase was amused. He hadn’t known Oliver Queen knew how to do that. But there was that sextape that his allies argued was doctored. His thoughts were pushed to the back of his mind when he felt his dirty prisoner take in his whole length and bob his head up and down.

_The man who killed my father, on his knees_ , he thought vindictively.

_The man who killed my father_ , he reminded himself and grabbed Queen’s hair viciously, chocking the man as his member was forced further down the mayor’s throat.

He guided Queen, took full control of the situation. When he looked down again, he almost came on the spot. There was Oliver Queen, the fearsome Green Arrow, mouth around his cock as he glared furiously up at him.

Chase thrust into his prisoner, yanking his hair hard as he pulled the man’s head up and down his dick. Eventually he came into Queen’s mouth and reveled at the shame and acceptance evident on the vigilante’s face. There was still some defiance.

_Good_ , he thought. _I like a challenge_. 


	2. Taking Over Me

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This is an Evanescence song that seems to fit. It might seem to fit into that nonoyes rape cliche, but there's a deep psychological battle here.

Oliver spit cum out of his mouth with resentment. His eyes were burning and so was his face. The one time he sucked a guy off in college, he decided he was straight as an arrow. Then the asshole had the gall to try and blackmail him. Oliver had released the footage himself with the statement ‘I’m all for inclusiveness’. The media had eaten it up and the unsuspecting blackmailer was thrust into the limelight for a while. Then they decided it was doctored, which was probably mom’s doing.

But that was different. That was when he had control. A light slap on his face served as a reminder of his predicament.

“We’re gonna have to train you, Ollie. Good boys swallow. You will. I won’t insult your intelligence by threatening you again. In fact,” Chase raised his hand with a flourish and jangled a keyring. “Let’s get you out of these chains. Beautiful creatures shouldn’t be locked up.”

Ollie was puzzled to say the least. Why was Chase unchaining him and calling him beautiful? Was the man demented, no, _more_ demented than Ollie originally thought?

Chase just smiled serenely and undid the locks. “Now I know you know better than to fight me, but a small part of me is hoping you don’t.” His eyes lit up with malice as he watched Ollie stand up and stretch his sore muscles.  

He didn’t even look behind him as he confidently exited the room, expecting Oliver to follow.

The vigilante memorized all the exits and camera blind spots as he followed, instinct taking over. It would be no help to him because the physical cell wasn’t what he had to escape; it was the situation where his friends were in danger. Chase was always ten steps ahead.

He thought more about the day’s previous events. Surely sex wouldn’t be that bad if it meant his friends got to live. Especially if it was non-consensual. A pit grew in his stomach as he started to suspect the new torture Chase was trying.

His heart sank further as he entered a bedroom. It was nice, with a large four poster bed and crisp white sheets. The bedframe was deep mahogany, and it matched the tables and dressers. There was a white bear rug in front of a maroon loveseat that was facing a large reflective TV over the fireplace. Two of the walls were mirrored, and, being opposite one another, they created an infinite reflections effect.

“Nice place,” he mumbled.

“Well someone’s losing his virginity. I want to make it special for you.” Chase looked at him lovingly and Ollie swore he’d rather spend 30 years in prison with Malcolm freaking Merlyn than stay with this creepy fucker for one more minute.

“The two-faced lawyer has bipolar disorder. What’s new?” Perhaps he was being too bold. Maybe poking the bear was a bad idea. His eyes drifted to the dead bear being used as a rug. Or not.

“I will not give you a single command tonight. Other than no killing, injuring, or escaping, you have complete and total control of what you do. I’ll just help make your first time enjoyable. Now show me how much you love your friends.” Chase lay on the bed and wore an infuriatingly smug expression as he patted an empty area.

Oliver started sweating. This was the worst torture of them all. He’d never be able to justify this to anyone, let alone himself. The reflections seemed to taunt him, an infinite series of pale faces glancing nervously back at his own.

“I should probably sh-shower first,” he said.

Chase shrugged. He didn’t even taunt Ollie for his stutter.

Oliver shivered and walked over to the bathroom. He looked at himself in the mirror, noticing how dirty and bloody he was.

“I can’t do this,” he said. His steely eyes stared back at him. “I have to do this. I-I will do this.” No torture had ever affected him this way, forced him inside his own head, quite like this one.

Shakily, he stepped into the shower and turned it as hot as it could go. There would be no escaping this, and he really had to accept that. The shower ran red and brown as all the blood and grime on his body got washed away.

It seemed ironic that he was cleaning himself before doing something that would make him so dirty. Still he scrubbed, trying to become numb.

When he finally walked back into the room (after undergoing some pretty awkward cleansing), Chase was waiting lazily on the bed.

The man raised an eyebrow as if to say ‘what are you waiting for?’

Ollie let go of his towel and walked up to Chase. He removed Chase’s pants and went for the shirt, but he was blocked by Chase’s strong grip on his wrist.

“I’m not the whore here,” Chase said. “Now get on with it. What am I keeping your friends alive for anyway?”

Ollie shivered. Harsh words and threats were good, even if they made him feel gross. Ollie knew he did not want this, but the more evidence he had for future reference, the better.

Unfortunately, Chase seemed to follow Oliver’s train of thought. “I suppose I should break you first. I get a little confused sometimes. Sorry, gorgeous.” He rubbed the archer’s cheek soothingly.

To his great shame, a tear rolled down Ollie’s cheek. This wasn’t fair. He hadn’t _really_ cried for nearly ten years. Chase was breaking through his walls by being nice.

“Don’t. Please,” Ollie begged before more tears could fall. “Don’t be nice.”

Chase grinned like a shark. “Why Mr. Queen,” he exclaimed. “It’s almost like you’re messed up. Not wanting your captor to be nice to you? Would you prefer I send in the prisoners? They wouldn’t be nice.”

He threw a pillow at Ollie when he saw the man think. “Don’t be an idiot, you’d never be able to walk again. By the time I’m done with you, you’ll learn how to take it any way I want. But for now, I’ll be gentle.” He wiped a tear from Oliver’s face.

“Caring.” He put a hand in Oliver’s hair.

“Kind.” He kissed Oliver’s forehead gently.

“You’re just an orphan who was in the wrong place at the wrong time. But underneath it all is a party boy who would love this kind of treatment. Love to be praised for looking so perfect.”

Oliver’s breath hitched as he started to get turned on. No, this wasn’t fair.

“I killed your father,” he nearly shouted. “Shot an arrow into his body. I’m not an orphan who was in the wrong place at the wrong time.” Not poking the bear, poking the fucking dragon! Dumb Ollie, dumb.

Chase’s eyes flashed for a second, barely noticeable. “But you wouldn’t have killed my father if you’d never been stranded on that island. I’ve often contemplated that. Are you inherently a killer? Does it run in your blood? Your mother was fine with casualties and your father-well, spoilers. But I think that the island ruined you, turned you into something else. Which is why I want to bring out your old self, to save you from the beast inside.”

Oliver only looked shocked. “You’re crazy. You are bat-shit insane,” he uttered in realization. Chase ignored him.

“You’re so beautiful,” Chase trailed a hand over Oliver’s abs. “You've done things most men twice your age can’t even fathom.” His other hand traced some scars.

 _It’s just a natural reaction to stimuli. You don’t want this. God, I don’t want this._ Ollie’s thoughts were in disarray as he became fully aroused.

 “Oliver, you’re such a good boy. Such a good boy for me. Now tell me how much you want this.” Chase started pumping Oliver’s dick. “Tell me how much you want to be saved.”

When Ollie didn’t answer, Chase smiled. “It’s okay. You don’t have to say it. Your body is telling me. Good boy.”

Why was that working? His parents never called him a good boy. Granted he was an asshole from early childhood, but he never knew those words would affect him this way.

He moaned involuntarily as Chase began to pump faster. His breath hitched and his face got red.

“There’s a good boy. Now come for me.” Chase seemed a little flushed himself. Ollie came into Chase’s hand, and the man wiped it on his chest. Ollie fell back on the bed in relaxed bliss. This was so wrong but it felt so damn good. The last time he had sex was before Damien Dahrk paralyzed Felicity.

“Was that hard for you? You can do it. Just some safe, gentle sex with a lover, right? Just a path to redemption.” Chase grinned when Oliver growled, enjoying the man’s discomfort almost as much as he’d enjoyed his body.

Oliver sighed from his position, staring up at the ceiling from Chase’s fancy bed. He felt disgusting, like some dirty little whore, and this was before Chase even had sex with, no, _raped_ him. He could think back to when Chase made it feel non consensual, the rough grasp in his hair and the dick forcing itself down his throat. Why couldn’t that be enough for Chase? Humiliation and control, was that not sufficient? Did he have to act loving? Like they were in some perverse alternate universe where they loved each other?

This man tricked him into killing a cop! He twisted an innocent hurting girl into becoming a killer! He-he was making Oliver feel so good. _He said he wants to save me_.

Why? Ollie was straight. Sure he’d imagined fucking the Flash, but that was because he was-not straight? _Oh god, I’m unraveling_ , he thought, horrified. _Besides,_ _Barry must look very feminine. Right._

 _Then how do you explain that dream about Diggle?_ A nasty voice in his consciousness piped up.

Chase was watching amused as emotions played over his prisoner’s face. He probably expected this, expected Ollie to break down. This was all Chase’s doing. There was no need to think he was gay or anything, that was part of Chase’s plan.

“Can we just do this?” he grumbled. “I’m sick and tired of the mind games. You want to rape me? Fine, just do it. But don’t pretend like either of us wants this.”

“Oh but I do want this. I want to make you mine. I want to turn the criminal who killed my father into my own personal bitch who will come when I call him, even after I let him out. I want to defang you, make you harmless.” Chase’s eyes were hungry. “I will make you a lover, not a fighter. I will show you who you really are and help you fix yourself. You like to kill now, Arrow. You can take out the stress of holding yourself back.”

 “I don’t kill,” Ollie replied through grit teeth. It seemed like a conversation he had fifteen times before and it was starting to piss him off.

“Exactly. It must be so hard for you,” Chase’s tone turned warm and empathetic. “I just want to help you. I want to rehabilitate you.” He stroked Oliver’s cheek and the man flinched away heavily. “Let me fix you.”

“I-I’m not even broken,” Ollie muttered. Chase’s hand was now rubbing his naked shoulders comfortingly.

“Tommy. Laurel. Remember them? They stayed dead because you brought them into this. You were just about ready to kill Tommy’s father, weren’t you? You wanted to make him an orphan just like you because you were hurting. What about your parents? Your lying mother, your beloved father, both dead because of you. I have eyes on your friends. With you away from them, they’ll be safe. You won’t have to worry about killing them. You can focus on healing.”

“That’s not right. You’re twisting things. I don’t-I’m not-I _changed_ for Tommy. I stopped killing for him.”

“But _did_ you stop killing?”

Ollie shuddered. All those times he had to reinvent himself, when would it stick? When he was a wisecracking cheerful archer wearing bright spandex and tights operating in the day? That would never happen. Maybe Chase was right. Not about being the one to rehabilitate him, because psychopaths aren’t the best therapists, but about all the harm he caused. He did need to reinvent himself.

“I’m going to open you up now, Ollie. Plant a seed of hope if you will.” Of course a crazy person would use the lowest form of humor in an awful situation. Of course.

Chase coated a finger with lube and started circling Ollie’s hole. It felt…weird. Not painful, but weird.

He gasped when the finger entered him, pushing through the clenched ring of muscle. There’s the pain.

It started thrusting. After a while, the burn seemed to dissipate. Then the finger crooked and Ollie gasped in surprise. That was pleasure he just felt. Pure, undiluted, arguably better than anything he’d previously experienced.

Another finger joined the first and Ollie couldn’t care about the weird squelching or the tiny burn because Chase was hitting that spot. Again and again and again. His dick twitched, refractory periods all but forgotten.

By the time there were three fingers, Ollie could barely see anything other than white. He caught a glance at himself in the mirror, lying on his back with his legs resting on Chase’s shoulders (he’d been moved somewhere between finger two and three). He looked-god, was it weird to say he looked hot?

“It’s time for something bigger,” Chase huffed. His cheeks were quite red as he lubed up his hard cock.

It burned so good. Like exercise or something that hurts but triggers the pleasure center of the brain. Ollie clenched and unclenched around the strange intrusion. It didn’t feel very good anymore. Now it was just there and he squirmed. Wasn’t this supposed to be pleasurable?

He let out a low whine and immediately covered his mouth.

“Don’t be embarrassed by the pretty sounds you make,” Chase intoned seductively. “Tell me what you need.”

“I need you to- _ughh_ -fucking move!” Ollie grunted.

Chase laughed at him. “Never expected you to be a power bottom. But you get this one time, so I will listen to you.” And he started moving. It took a few thrusts, but eventually he hit that sweet spot.

Ollie moaned and thrust his hips back down, impaling himself onto Chase’s cock.

“More, more, fuck, yes, more,” he said between stuttering breaths.

Chase started to fuck him faster. He flipped them over and pounded Ollie into the padded headboard. Ollie clutched at the sheets desperately, sometimes holding on to the man above him.

Chase leaned forward so his lips were on Ollie’s neck.

“Mine,” he moaned. “Gonna show everyone,” he huffed. “That you're mine.” He bit into Ollie’s neck and sucked on his vein.

Ollie wanted to ridicule him for acting like a vampire but he was at a loss for words. The bite had unleashed something in him, something that needed release. His dick throbbed as he felt ready to cum.

Chase moved down to his chest. He bit one of his nipples and pinched the other with one hand and Ollie lost it.

Chase must have felt Ollie’s muscles clenching and spasming as he came all over his own chest because he followed. Semen shot into Oliver’s ass, and he admitted to himself that maybe sex with a man wasn’t so bad.

Chase pulled out and fell on his back next to Ollie. They both panted, trying to slow their beating hearts.

“So…so much for your plans…of being…gentle,” Ollie managed. Chase grinned blissfully at him, now lying on his side to face the vigilante. He put a hand in Ollie’s hair, running through the fine strands.

“You’re welcome,” he said. “Told you…you’d…love it.”

“Can I go to sleep now?” Ollie asked, almost shyly. His captor nodded, looking at him with great affection in his eyes. He cuddled closer to Ollie, pulling a light blanket over their sweaty naked bodies and shutting all the lights.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please kudos and comment, I love feedback! Also tell me if I need to update any trigger warnings.


	3. Crawling In The Dark

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Holy hell, this one is dark and not what I expected, but Minnie will be happy ;P.  
> So yeah, intense rape scene here. He does not get physically hurt, but there is gangrape as Kovar reintroduces himself to Ollie. Correct me if I'm wrong about Kovar having his own Bratva members. I can just change them to random Russian minions. No Ollie's were harmed in the writing of this fic.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks to everyone who commented. I'm sorry I'm not great at updating, But I promise to try.   
> This hasn't been beta-read yet because I think y'all deserve the chapter asap, and I'll edit anything that needs to be edited when my amazing beta(s) run through it.

Oliver woke up warm and satisfied. An arm was wrapped around his naked chest and it felt good. Comfortable.

He gave a sleepy sigh and rolled on his side to face the person lying with him.

“What the hell!?” he screamed. Adrian Chase jumped into motion, and in a flurry of motion, Ollie found his throat pinned beneath Chase’s forearm.

“Don’t startle me like that,” Chase said. “Just try to remember what happened last night. You, me, naked bodies doing the dirty,” he started to use hand motions and Ollie grimaced.

“Oh right, you raped me.” It all came flooding back. Ollie was disgusted with himself. It had felt good at the time, but now he felt anything but good.

“Now let’s not use such harsh language,” Chase murmured. “As I recall, you had a great time. Also, your friends are safe from you for another day. Be happy.”

Ollie frowned. Did having a good time affect the definition of rape? Was it rape if he agreed to it, if he came twice?

“I’ll tell you what rape is. Talia Al-Ghul. She drugs you and takes advantage of you while you’re unconscious.” Chase sounded bitter. “‘I just wanted an heir,’ she said. Bitch. I didn’t take advantage of you while you were asleep, so don’t call what we did rape.”

Ollie knew there were many things wrong with what Chase just said, but he was too tired to analyze it.

“Shit,” he realized. “I woke up in Talia’s bed.”

Chase grinned. “I’m not alone. She never tried it on me again. I’m sterile,” he said proudly.

Oliver tried not to think about how many baby Ollies were around being trained by the league of assassins right now.

“She is a bitch,” he said.

“I blew up her genetic lab. She had a couple hundred test tubes of sperm, so don’t worry.”

Ollie let out a breath he did not know he’d been holding.

“Let’s have sex again,” Chase said. “I’ve got morning wood to take care of.”

Ollie was reminded of why he was there, in the nice room, instead of rotting away in a cell somewhere.

“I’m too tired,” he started.

“Then give me a fucking handjob. I don’t care, just get me off already so I can go to work.” Chase seemed agitated.

Ollie warred with himself. If he did not do what Chase asked, things could get pretty bad. Maybe pretending to comply would keep the sex tame.

He pulled off the blanket and lubed his hand with a tube on the bedside table. Then he went to work, touching the sensitive areas very lightly and then going rough. Chase seemed to like it from the sounds he was making.

Ollie felt a disgusting satisfaction at being able to get these sounds out of Chase and he quelled it.

Chase was arching into his grip, thrusting into air as he moaned. Ollie saw his face as he came. The dark eyes were half-lidded and clouded over, the neck was tilted far back, and the mouth was open in a low moan.

“You and Tommy go jerking each other off when you were young?” Chase asked.

Ollie raised his eyebrows at the blissed out man.

“You ain’t bad at this,” Chase finally explained, cupping Oliver’s cheek gently. There was a pregnant pause.

“So I’m gonna go to work now. But I want you to admit something to me first. What we had last night-that was consensual. Your friends are safe from you. You’re welcome.” Chase looked so smug that Ollie wanted to punch his face.

“I’m not going to thank you for holding my friends hostage,” he stated blandly.

His hair was suddenly yanked painfully, forcing him to bare his neck. “Ollie, Ollie, Ollie,” Chase began condescendingly. “If you are a disease that destroys everything you touch, I am a hero for quarantining you. You ought to show some kind of gratitude for that.”

Oliver did not respond.

“Tommy, Moira, Laurel, and poor ol’ Robert Queen. They died because they got too close. The best friend. The scheming mother. The betrayed ex-lover turned friend. And the one person who could have survived himself, had your presence not affected him. How many times do I have to say it? What did you do when Thea died, and Felicity got paralyzed, and Sara came back, died again, and was reborn. These are just your current friends. Nearly everyone else from your past is dead now, rotted away from the cancerous touch you bring.”

He let go of Ollie’s hair. “I know someone who survived you. I’ll leave you in his care to see what justice your past would dispense on death itself.”

Oliver didn’t voice it, but he thought Chase was being overly dramatic.

“What about the people I’ve helped?” he asked.

Chase flew into a blind rage. “People you’ve helped?! You ‘helped’ me and killed my father! How many other family members should suffer from your actions?” He punched Ollie in the cheek and the vigilante cradled it, wincing.

He stormed out of the room, Leaving Oliver naked on his bed. No matter how hard he justified it, Ollie had to admit that Chase did not use that kind of violence to coerce him to have sex. He hadn’t even taken advantage of Ollie when he was asleep. There was a clear yes in the story.

Ollie pushed his thoughts away. He needed a shower. But that grossness of voluntarily having sex with the enemy would linger, long after his body was scrubbed clean.

He showered anyway, scrubbing hard until he noticed what he was doing. He would not react like someone who’d been violently assaulted because he hadn’t, and his claim to victimhood would undermine people who had it far worse.

With great self-control, he left the shower as soon as he was done cleaning himself. Then he brushed his teeth and left the bathroom all together, donning a fluffy bathrobe when he couldn’t find any other clothes.

* * *

 

He was about to leave the room when an ominous figure stepped into the light…and his heart skipped a beat. It must be hallucination-inducing drugs. Even Constantine didn’t think there was such a thing as ghosts. And the man in front of him died 5 years ago. Twice!

“Oliver Queen,” the man spoke in his heavy Russian accent. “You took much from me. You took my life like the monster you know you are.”

Ollie gulped. “How are you still alive, Kovar?” he used anger to mask his fear.

“It could be the Lazarus pit. These stories are always more complicated than we make them out to be. Now you, you are whore to Chase?” he explained casually, as if talking about the weather.

Ollie looked at himself in the mirrored walls. Infinite hims confirmed the Russian’s claim. Standing in nothing but a robe in the room of your enemy with a bruise on your face? What other conclusions could be drawn.

He forced himself not to blush.

“I will take you too. Americans say ‘sharing is caring’, correct? Me and Chase- we share. You are Chase’s whore, now you are my whore as well.” The simplified explanation did nothing for Oliver’s fear.

“I’ll fight you. Chase got me to agree to it. I voluntarily had sex with him. Why would I agree to sex with you?” Ollie tried to sound cool and collected, but he was pretty sure his voice broke along the way.

The Russian rolled his eyes. “I do not wish to fight, I wish to fuck. You are whore. You don’t need to say yes, it is implied. And if you fight me, I will let you be shared among my followers until you’re crippled or dead. You are smart enough to know I am better choice.”

Oliver gulped. “Chase!” he screamed. “He’s going to hurt me!”

He felt his head yanked back by arms more powerful than his own. He was shoved back onto the bed and forced to lie down, then had his arms and legs pinned by the corrupt Russian above him.

“The bitch always cries to her master. But the master does not care. Do fight me, I will enjoy sending your broken body home to your friends. Will your sister get adorably blood-thirsty? It is good look for Thea Merlyn.” He nodded appreciatively and Ollie knew he wasn’t getting out of this one.

He reluctantly opened his robe and felt like he was just begging to be ravished, like a heroine in a steamy pulp fiction.

“Bitches know to submit to their masters,” Kovar stated. He stuck some lubed fingers in Ollie’s asshole and stretched him fast.

“I could do without the running commentary,” Oliver ground out.

He was slapped hard. “Open your mouth again and I will have it put to another use. Ilya and Vanya both like your body and Vanya killed Ilya’s favorite prostitute. You would be a simple way to settle this dispute.”

Ollie closed his mouth.

Kovar seemed satisfied with the stretch he’d gotten and he stuck his lubed cock in the hole. It burned and almost made Ollie cry out, but he was worried that Kovar might consider that opening his mouth.

Kovar didn’t care. He pushed in fast and then immediately started pounding Oliver into the mattress. It was hard and rough, and if Kovar brushed Ollie’s prostate, it was accidental. He felt himself hardening at those touches.

Kovar’s pace was punishingly fast, but he decided to change tactics. He started to angle his thrusts directly in line with Ollie’s prostate. Oliver didn’t know why until he let out an open mouthed moan.

“Ilya! Vanya! Come.” Kovar called out, as if he was just calling his underlings to his office.

_Shit shit shit shit_ , Ollie thought.

Two hulking Russian Bratva members came into the room.

Ollie could mostly understand the conversation they were having in Russian, but he was too preoccupied to get the grammar right.

“Vanya, you get American mouth. I take ass. You kill another prostitute, I do not agree to deal.”

“It was accident Ilya. You love her? She is sex.”

“She was mine. Now I take mouth until boss is done.”

The goons pulled down their pants and Ilya positioned his cock above Ollie’s mouth.

Oliver sucked on it. He was on his back and his legs were on Kovar’s shoulders, his head flush against the headboard. Ilya was on his knees with his back on the headboard, straddling Ollie’s shoulders. If he could not hold himself up, he was in position to fall onto Ollie’s face.

When Kovar thrust particularly hard, Ollie’s head was pushed and his teeth grazed Ilya’s cock.

“Boss I suggest different position?” Ilya panted.

Kovar hmm’ed and pulled out, flipping Oliver so the vigilante was on his stomach. Ilya and Kovar pulled him onto his knees and reentered his holes so he was being fucked onto Ilya’s cock with every one of Kovar’s thrusts.

Vanya stroked himself as he watched.

Finally, Kovar came into Ollie’s ass. Ilya took his place and Vanya took Ilya’s, giving Ollie no respite.

Ilya thrust in, using Kovar’s cum as lubricant. Vanya was significantly longer than Ilya and Chase, so Ollie could not breathe when a particularly hard thrust forced him to deepthroat Vanya, choking him.

His face got red until he remembered to breathe through his nose, forcing him to smell the musky scents of sex.

When he was bottomed out at both ends, he felt like a speared animal, getting roasted over the spit.

Vanya decided to jerk Ollie off until he came, and the spasming muscles caused Ilya to come as well. Vanya came shortly after, as the moans Ollie made reverberated around his dick.

Ollie hysterically remembered Chase saying good boys swallow. That felt like eons ago, though it was yesterday. He had no idea how many goons Kovar had, and he felt like spitting out Vanya’s cum would be an excuse to get fucked some more.

So he swallowed, actually longing for Adrian. Adrian, who actually cared. This was vengeance from Kovar. If his was what vengeance looed like, Adrian obviously didn’t want vengeance; he wanted to help Oliver.

When the two men pulled out, Ollie’s knees collapsed and he fell on his stomach. Someone stuck something up his ass, but he was too tired and fucked out to notice.

Kovar watched him. “Ah, Oliver. My revenge is not yet complete. I will have two of my men at a time come and use you. Eventually you will have sperm of my loyal Bratva members inside you.”

Ollie couldn’t even muster the strength to turn on his side to face the man. “I can’t,” he mumbled into his pillow. “’s too much. No more.”

Kovar laughed out loud. “Do I have the privilege to see famous Oliver Queen begging?” he asked incredulously.

“What my men just did-they were gentle because they know you are Chase’s bitch. It can be worse, Oliver. So do you say yes to quantity over quality? One man can break you, or you can survive thirty.”

Ollie buried his head in the pillow. “No more. Please no. I don’t want this. I want Chase.” His begging was muffled, but it had a toneless air of hopelessness.

Kovar walked over and lifted Ollie’s head by the hair. “I did not hear you beg for my men to fuck you.” He said. “If you do not, I assume you want to be paralyzed.”

Ollie groaned. “Please have your men fuck me,” he tried to sound believable, but it came out resigned.

Kovar patted his cheek. “Should have made this your initiation to Bratva, Oliver. My men will love this present.”

He called out some words in Russian and two more men came into the room. After a while, Ollie lost count of how many people fucked him. It would rotate one at a time, and the newest person would take his mouth and then his ass and leave for the next guy. It went on for hours, and after a while, the men might as well have been fucking a ragdoll for all the reactions he could give.

Finally it ended. Ollie could feel tear tracks cutting lines through the crusted cum on his cheeks, but he didn’t care anymore. One second there was a man fucking his ass and the next there was nobody, and he felt oddly lonely.

He fell asleep to nightmares of what had just happened, occurring in the infinite time of dreams, over and over again.

When he woke up, he could feel a person next to him. He tried to clamp his mouth shut, but did not have the energy.

The person was clothed, he could feel, and there was no dick out. They carried him to the bathroom and set him down gently in a warm tub, uttering soothing words of comfort.

He could see a flash of dark hair and concerned eyes as he drifted off, letting the man scrub him and dry him and dress him in soft pajamas and carry him to the bed, where he was laid gently on the new clean sheets and cuddled.

He felt warm and a bit safe when the man put an arm over his body protectively.

He did not mind when the man murmured ‘mine’ into his ear.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please leave kudos and comments with ideas. I do have a basic storyline planned out, but I'm trying to be similar to the canon and have him captured for a short time before he goes 'free'.


	4. Get Out Alive

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Largely dialogue based, Chase and Evelyn show up to both comfort and brainwash Oliver.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow, I did research for this chapter! Yay me. By the end of this (nothing sexual beyond kissing in this chap.), Ollie has decided on a consensual relationship with Chase. It is pretty dubious, but I'll let you read and find out how the events of last chapter are processed.

Adrian looked down at his prisoner sadly. He felt bad that he had to let Kovar torture the vigilante, but it was integral to Oliver’s re-education.

Ollie was turning over in his sleep, mumbling words like ‘no, stop, please…’ He was feverish enough to worry Chase.

So Adrian rubbed soothing circles into his broad back and cooled his forehead with a cloth. Oliver jerked at the contact but calmed down when he realized it wasn’t threatening.

Kovar had screwed up his plans a bit. Ollie was too early in the brainwashing process to be gangraped, Chase thought viciously. He opened up his cell phone.

“Arquette? I want you to kill all the prisoners. They know his identity. And if you find it out yourself, I’ll have someone come for you. Also, we will not be working with Kovar any longer.” He spoke quietly and directly into his phone.

“Johnson? Kill Arquette at noon. He’s a traitor. Don’t let him poison your ears with his treachery.” He said to a different number, planning Johnson's accidental death.

The prisoners were a useful bargaining chip, and Kovar destroyed it. Maybe he’d tell Oliver where Kovar was staying. No, that would not help fix him.

Oliver convulsed in his sleep again. Adrian whispered soothing words into his ear, but the only one that seemed to calm him was ‘mine’.

 Well, Chase could work with that. Maybe Kovar had actually helped speed things up a bit.

He kissed Ollie’s forehead, scheming all the while.

* * *

Ollie woke up in pain. He groaned as he felt bruises and sore muscles and…and…

The trauma of yesterday’s events returned to him at once and he heaved, but had nothing to throw up.

He could see himself in the mirrored walls, looking as bad as he felt. There were finger-shaped bruises on his hips, and his neck, chest, and torso were severely marked with scratches, bruises, and bites.

The door to Chase’s room rattled and he flinched. He could not deal with any more torture today.

It was Evelyn, carrying a tray of breakfast food. Her eyes were red and she looked rattled, which made Oliver instantly feel guilty.

 _Women_ , he thought viciously. _You can be nearly dead and they’ll make you feel bad about it._

He scolded himself for thinking that, and focused on Evelyn. She was almost too sad. It was like she’d watched hundreds of movies about sad people and put all their mannerisms and expressions into one perfect act.

“Ollie!” she sobbed. “I heard what they did to you and I had to see if you were okay. I’m sorry I joined Chase, Oliver. I’m sorry I betrayed you.” She was ugly crying now, tears and snot and everything in between.

“Hey, hey, it’s okay. Just help me get out of here and we can plan our next move.” He winced as he sat up and leaned against the headboard.

She wiped her eyes and sniffled. “I can’t. He’s gonna hurt me. He’ll kill me anyways, I can’t.”

Oliver’s eyes went steely at this. Despite everything that she had done, Evelyn did not deserve to die. And he’d fight to his last breath to defend her.

“Why would Chase kill you?” he asked. Chase, who hadn’t hurt him; Chase, who was gentle and wanted to fix him.

Evelyn burst into another round of tears, making Ollie wish he was literally anywhere else.

Suddenly she went silent and Chase stepped in the door.

“What are you doing here, Evelyn?” he asked harshly.

“D-don’t hurt me, please Adrian!” she blubbered. “I just had to see if he was okay. I shouldn’t care about him-” she shifted her tearful gaze to Ollie. “-I shouldn’t care about you,” she repeated. “You’re a hypocrite who kills people indiscriminately. A serial killer uses a list, not a hero! And you didn’t let me get the vengeance I deserved because it was too dark.”

Ollie grinned despite himself. “Darhk,” he repeated with a chuckle.

She laughed along despite herself, her fake sad and genuinely angry expressions fading into a long-suffering derisive look.

Chase looked a little bewildered, but seemed to remember himself. “Evelyn, you failed to make Oliver admit he’s a killer. There’s no reason for you to be here,” he dismissed her sharply.

She fumed and huffed. “Whatever. Torture him, kill him, I don’t care. I don’t care about him! I’m leaving.”

Ollie watched her storm out regretfully. He _had_ changed. She hated him because he wouldn’t let her kill Ruve Adams after Ruve’s husband, Damien Darhk’s scheming led to the death of Evelyn’s parents.

When she found out he had been the hood, she thought he was a hypocrite, as he had taken his vengeance on the whole city, killing people she knew herself.

And Chase had been there to whisper poison in her ear; to turn her into the vengeance-obsessed cold-blooded murderer Ollie tried to prevent from emerging.

“Are you okay?” Chase asked Oliver, looking concerned. Ollie could see how he turned Evelyn. The sociopath knew how to feign empathy like a pro. “I didn’t mean for him to do that to you, I promise that. I figured you guys were overdue for a bit of a painful talk, not-”

“-rape? You can say it, I’ll always believe you made the order,” Ollie cut in bitterly.

“I didn’t! I would never do that, I want to help you.” He sounded emphatic enough.

“What you did to me was rape. You felt guilty about it, so you had Kovar and his men brutally rape me so I would make a distinction between your assault and theirs. That way, I’d never call what you did rape and voluntarily come back to you, either by latching on to the comfort you provided after that assault, or by choosing the lesser of two evils in fear,” Ollie spoke matter-of-factly, compartmentalizing all emotional pain in his brain.

 “You’re wrong,” Chase argued. “The motive is all wrong. Why do I want you to come back to me? If I want to fix you-”

“-It’ll be much easier to rebuild a broken man, especially by using a dependent or codependent relationship. There’s also the vengeance aspect. You just don’t want to get your hands dirty. And you said it yourself, how you want to turn me into a harmless version of the criminal that killed your father, now beholden to you.”

Chase held his hands in the air. “You don’t seem to remember me saying that I want to help you in that conversation. That I want to show you your true self, the serial killer who enjoys his quest for vengeance a little too much, so we can work together to change that.”

Oliver snorted derisively. “How many times do I have to say that I’m not that man anymore?” he asked, annoyance creeping into his tone. “As soon a Tommy died, I realized I was going about it all wrong. He was the first casualty-”

“-NO HE WAS NOT!” Chase roared, loud enough to make Ollie flinch. “All those people on the list. THEY were your casualties, your victims. One day they make a few shady deals and the next, Robin Hood tells them they failed the city and murders them. No due process, no evidence. Just a book written by the biggest hypocrite of them all: dear old altruistic dad.”

“What do you mean?” Ollie whispered, dreading Chase’s answer.

“Hypothetically,” Chase started. “A CEO murders a councilman. Maybe the councilman sees a problem with the new facility the CEO opened. Maybe they argue. Maybe it gets physical and the councilman falls to his death in wet concrete. Maybe the CEO uses legal loopholes to cut the severance pay of the employees of the facility when he shuts it down, fearing discovery of the fossilized councilman. Would the supposed older version of you with his list feel justified in murdering that man?”

Ollie paled. “You’re making it up. That would never happen! My dad wasn’t perfect, but he helped me stop Merlyn’s plans to destroy the Glades.”

“Oh, so now due process and evidence matter? When it’s your father? I have the evidence to back it up. Did you have evidence of MY father’s misdeeds before you shot him nonfatally and left him to die underwater?”

Ollie groaned. “He was poisoning people to make a profit. As DA Chase, you would put that guy away. Justin Claybourne was corrupt, but that does not justify killing him. However, he was powerful enough that the evidence stacked against him would mysteriously disappear from the police stations, and witnesses would refuse to testify. If I let the justice system handle your father’s case, he would have went free. But killing him was wrong, and I know that now. I’m sorry.”

Chase’s eyes burned. “You aren’t sorry. You enjoyed that, enjoyed making him suffer in his last few moments. You know how to kill a man instantly with your bow and yet you still made the shot to his chest nonfatal so he would spend 145 seconds drowning in his swimming pool. You felt a sick satisfaction at that, you wanted to torture him for his supposed misdeeds. I want to stop you from hurting people like him and even more innocent people to support your little leather vigilantism fetish.”

Ollie frowned. It was true, what Chase was saying. He could have killed Claybourne instantly and he didn’t. He had been angry about the TB deaths in the Glades and made the man responsible suffer. That was not vengeance, it was psychopathy. Like Dexter or Hannibal Lecter when they killed evil men.

“How many innocents have _you_ killed to draw my attention? How many people were tortured before their deaths, like your father? You say you want to make me less dangerous, but in doing so, you have become the thing you despise. I guess we are quite similar, except I would never have you violently raped.”

“You’d have me sent to prison,” Chase retorted without hesitation.

“Aha! You feel like I should have the prison experience so you had me gangraped. There’s another motive. You couldn’t be sure a jury would put me away so you took justice into your own hands. Five years ago, I was you, except for all the crazy.” Ollie felt triumphant when he saw Chase’s face close off in deep consideration. “I have the high ground now,” he grinned.

“Do you want me to cut off all your limbs? I will cut off all your limbs for a Star Wars reference.” Chase’s face grew more serious. “Maybe you’re right. Maybe we can heal together. Since you don’t believe I can be rehabilitated, I’ll have you conditioned to listen to me. It’s easy to talk with bravado, but the second I raise my hand to strike you-” he raised his hand and Ollie flinched “-you flinch like a beaten dog. It won’t be too hard. I won’t threaten your friends anymore unless they come after me, and you’ll be free to go in two days. You’ll come back to help me as I’m helping you. Don’t you see?” his eyes got a manic look and he sat on the bed next to Ollie, who shifted away. “We’re the same. We’re perfect for each other!”

He kissed Oliver’s dry and swollen lips, making out like a teenage girl who knew she was kissing her destined soulmate.

Ollie froze, unsure how to handle this. Truthfully, his mind had automatically separated threatening contact from benign, and it was registering this as benign. If this would get Chase to release him, Ollie could play along, although he’d probably find more sexual acts repulsive.

So he kissed back, like a teenage boy who knew he’d move on from the girl as soon as he found someone hotter. He tried not to think about Chase’s findings and his own sociopathic tendencies, but one thing was certain. When he went back home, he was shutting down Team Arrow.

The kiss broke off, and Ollie was met with the smiling face of Adrian Chase (or Simon Morrison).

“Heal and go home, Ollie. Then we will continue to meet. Like sponsors in AA. This is going to be great!”

Ollie smiled his media smile. “Great,” he said.

 

 _Maybe I can fix him_ , they both thought to themselves.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please leave kudos and comments, I love them all! Next chapter will have Oliver going back to the team.


	5. In The End

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ollie comes back to the team and disbands it, but is he still a prisoner to Chase?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Title from Linkin Park. Moment of silence for Chester.  
> Some of this dialogue is directly from the show, so here's my disclaimer. I don't own it. Deviates from canon of Disbanded because I'm stretching out the time between Oliver disbanding the team and him calling Anatoly.  
> There is pretty non graphic dubious consent in this.  
> Sorry about the wait, I had pretty bad writer's block. Also I'm starting school in a week so I'll have less time to write. But I will finish this story. It will never be abandoned.

In the End

Two days later, Chase kept his promise and let Ollie go. They’d had sex a few more times, despite Oliver’s revulsion and heavy flinching. Chase hadn’t seemed to care, he was a man obsessed.

And Ollie… Ollie learned to disassociate, like he’d done with other kinds of pain. If Chase wasn’t all there when they had sex, why should he be?

He had showered heavily, scrubbing and scrubbing. _This time I **am** a victim_, he’d thought. _So I will scrub as much as I damn well please_. And if there were silent tears streaming down his face in the shower they were lost with all the other water.

When he was released from Chase’s hideout, he went to his apartment before going to the arrow cave.

He looked at himself in the mirror and punched himself in the side to adjust his stance, so that it looked like he had fractured ribs instead of a swollen sphincter. He didn’t notice his hollow eyes or slightly gaunt face.

He walked into the cave, to Felicity, Curtis, and Diggle’s surprise. Diggle looked at his stance and tensed up.

“We're gonna get this son of a bitch for whatever he did to you,” he promised, scanning Ollie for injuries.

Oliver tried to keep his voice even as he disagreed.  “I don't want to do this anymore. I'm shutting everything down,” he said, putting some emotion behind his words.

He started patching himself up, mentally preparing for the coming conversation. He put on a sweater, feeling the desire to cover up more now than ever. Even Felicity’s eyes on his body made him shiver.

They all walked down the podium together, a united front.

“Oliver, what happened?” John asked.

“Yeah. What did you mean by "shutting this all down"?” Curtis added.

Felicity walked closer to him and he disassociated immediately. “Oliver, I really think that you should be checked out by an actual doctor,” she said.

Ollie tensed up as she entered his personal space. “The only thing I need is for all of you to go home,” he said.

John followed Felicity, starting to get closer to Oliver. He sucked in a breath as Diggle’s stalwart stance felt threatening. “Oliver, we're not going anywhere.”

“Not a suggestion, John,” he said, trying to cut off John’s path before he could get close enough. It worked, and Diggle stopped right in his tracks.

“Don't you think you at least owe us an explanation?” Curtis asked.

Ollie frowned. “The explanation is simple. Chase is right. Everyone that is, uh, down here, around me Well, they either suffer or they die.” He started to believe it.

Felicity looked at him imploringly. “Oliver, I can't imagine what you've just been put through, but you have to know that Chase is wrong,” she declared.

“I don't think that he is. And I can't--" He tried to explain even a fraction of what he’d been through but it felt like there was a physical barrier preventing the words from escaping. "Would you just go, please?” he whispered.

“Can, uh, the two of you give us the room?” Felicity and Curtis left, and Ollie could barely stand. He leaned on a table with his head down defensively. John walked up to him and he looked away. “It's just you and me now, Oliver. And you don't have to talk to me if you don't want to, but I don't think you should be alone.”

Ollie wished he could tell John about the rape and all the suffering, but his throat closed up and he felt the need to cry. “I think I should,” he responded. “John, I want you to leave”

They left the cave separately.

Ollie went back to his apartment and curled up in a chair. Even his bed was triggering him. _Weak_ , he chided himself.

His phone dinged and he checked it. It was a picture from a blocked number. A picture of him from the first time Chase took him. His eyes were closed in ecstasy as Chase pounded into him. The picture seemed to move in his mind as he remembered.

A text appeared later. “Meet me at the Pier in 45 minutes. I want you nice and stretched, Oliver.”

He responded with a thumbs up emoji and curled in on himself, burrowing into his comfortable armchair.

Chase had cameras. It was all on camera. The city’s most wanted criminal murderer/district attourney banging the mayor and it looked consensual.

“Fuck,” he cursed softly. “Fuck!” he screamed it this time, throwing his phone across the room.

He _needed_ to be mayor, to make changes and keep the city safe. A scandal like this would get him impeached faster than you could say Bill Clinton.

He picked up his phone, looking at the timestamp of the text. 40 minutes. He had 40 minutes to get to the pier to get fucked or he was…well, fucked.

He went to the bathroom and cleaned himself. Then he stuck lubed fingers up his hole and stretched himself clinically.

Mentally planning the fastest route to the peer, he donned his vigilante outfit. Then he thought better of it and decided to wear black.

He jumped rooftops and buildings, so covert that not even Felicity’s satellites could pick him up.

Eventually he got to the pier and waited in the shadows. He had 15 minutes to spare, so he decided to spy on Chase.

Unfortunately, Chase was not there. He waited in the shadows between two shipping containers for 10 minutes.

Finally, a lone figure entered the shipyard. He was talking on the phone.

“Yes, I have a meeting now. No, you can’t leave any prisoners. Because I fucking said so. Do you _want_ the vigilantes on your ass? Plan Omega is not in effect until I put it in effect so hold your damn horses. Goddammit, Jones. I actually miss Arquette. At least he understood which plans needed my approval to commence. Let the girl do it. She likes to kill. Gotta go.” He grinned and turned to where Ollie was hiding.

“I love how punctual you are,” he smirked. “Can’t wait to get some?”

Ollie stepped into the light. “The picture-are there more like it?” he asked.

“Only a few hours worth of video footage,” Chase responded. “Why? Scared I’ll be the next scandal? ‘District Attorney and Mayor closer than you might think’. Or how about this one, ‘public servant takes his title literally’?”

Ollie growled. “What do you want?” he asked.

“To continue our relationship, of course.” He looked at Ollie’s confused expression and elaborated. “I want to fuck your tight ass until you beg me for more. I’m under a lot of stress and you are the perfect way to relieve it. Amazing what blackmail can do, huh?”

Ollie frowned. So he was Chase’s booty call now. That’s just great. “I thought you were planning on meeting me anyways. Like AA sponsors? Remember that?"

Chase rolled his eyes. "I'm not an idiot. I knew you needed motivation to meet with me. I don't need any fixing anymore and you're all fixed, so I just want to fuck you."

"Fine then. Get on with it,” Ollie said sullenly. He didn't bother wondering why Chase was so crazy.

Chase pulled down his pants and pushed Ollie against a container wall. He pulled Ollie’s black pants down and stuck a dry finger in his ass.

“Wow, you listen well. All ready to go like a good bitch.” He started stretching Ollie's asshole with his fingers.

Ollie disassociated from the sexual act and words. “You already got what you wanted, Chase. I disbanded the team. There’s no reason for this,” he tried, seeing if Chase could be reasoned with.

Chase slapped his ass. “Here’s my reason. I’m horny. This keeps you in line. And if you’re gonna stand there like a ragdoll, I’ll go hard.”

Ollie shrugged. What was another set of finger shaped bruises on his hips?

Chase seemed satisfied with how stretched Ollie was and took his fingers out, replacing them with his cock. He kept to his promise and thrust hard, pounding Ollie against the wall. They were in the shadows, but Ollie still kept silent. The only sounds were crashing waves, distant seagulls, and flesh-on-flesh.

He thought about how close he was to Laurel’s statue. What would she think, seeing him like this? Chase suddenly hit Ollie’s prostate and the thought dissipated. The brutal thrusts into his prostate made Ollie cum against the metal wall, and his spasming muscles drove Chase to orgasm as well.

Finally, it was over. Ollie covertly went home with Chase’s cum in his ass. He couldn’t wait to shower. How had it come to this? How had he gone from party boy to archer-spy-vigilante to criminal’s fucktoy?

He contemplated the timeline in his head until he reached his apartment. Diggle was outside his door, fist raised in front. He lowered it then raised it again. Ollie let himself in through a window.

There was a loud knocking sound as Diggle finally gathered the courage to knock.

Ollie put on a pair of jeans and a t-shirt and answered the door.

“What’s up?” he asked.

John looked upset. “Ollie, I need to know you’re okay. The stuff you were saying-that wasn’t you. I’ve been thinking about this a lot. You’ve been tortured in every possible way, so what would break you like this?” he asked.

Ollie felt a lump in his throat. “It wasn’t torture. Chase helped me see that I’m a killer. I had to stop. My whole crusade was built on lies, and bringing everyone along was tying them to my murderous tendencies. So many people died because of me. I’m finally done.”

Diggle didn’t look convinced.

“John, I hate to kick you out but I have to be alone for a while,” he said, with just the right amount of emotion.

Diggle left, but not before giving Ollie a once-over scan.

Ollie got into his shower as soon as Diggle was gone and let out a sigh of relief. And then tears, but they were lost in the stream of water coming down on his head.

“I can survive this,” Ollie said aloud. It echoed loudly. _No I can’t_ , he thought.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Poor Diggle. He just wants to help. Comment and kudos, as always.


	6. Over And Over

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Chase blackmails Oliver, who feels very alone. His behavior starts to get John Diggle suspicious and worrying about his BFFL bro. Will John find out what Chase has been doing? Will Ollie escape his situation?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Used some dialogue from disbanded again. I stretched that episode out by like a month. Sorry if you're a stickler for canon.  
> Yeah, so, thanks for all of your support and kudoses and stuff.  
> Next chapter coming sometime next week.
> 
> BTW, there is a point in this story when Ollie decides he's had enough, and it totally IS because of bad puns. Puns are awful things.

Oliver got used to being Chase’s booty call. The city was quieter, Prometheus wasn’t attacking anyone, and it seemed like the police had a handle on all things small and petty, like purse-snatchers and domestic disputes.

Ollie started to think that Chase was toning it down for him. In exchange for his body the city was safe. That was easier than putting loved ones in danger and patrolling.

And sex with Chase was bearable. Until he demanded they do it in Ollie’s bed, one of the only places he felt safe. And then in his shower. Ollie started sleeping in the Arrow Cave, thankful that John, Felicity, Curtis, and Rene were respecting his wishes and disbanding.

But one day, when he woke up on a small cot in the corner of the Arrow Cave, he could see Diggle working out.

“What are you doing here, John?” he asked, fairly certain Diggle knew he was there.

Diggle put down his weights and caught his breath. “Gym’s full of testosterone heavy guys and my home gym was turned into a playroom for JJ. Figured the cave would be free. What are you doing here?”

“Uh they’re fixing a pipe in my place,” he tried to sound convincing, and Diggle didn’t question it.

His phone dinged.

“Gotta go. Maybe we can work out together while my apartment is unavailable,” Ollie said.

Diggle nodded and let Ollie go.

Five minutes later, Ollie was on his bed, buck naked with his ass in the air. He thanked any and all higher powers that he had given Chase a key to his place, or he wouldn’t have been able to lock the door.

Chase walked in, undressed, and immediately thrust into Ollie with no preparation (which Ollie had prepared for, so there technically was some preparation). He pounded Ollie into his own bed, calling out filthy things that Oliver had learned to tune out ages ago.

“C’mon whore, let’s go shower,” Chase commanded, and Ollie led him there. They had sex in the steamy shower, and Ollie let the tears flow freely. Chase didn’t notice or care.

“I killed a criminal for you today,” he whispered into Ollie’s ear. “Tried to rob a convenience store. We need to keep our streets clean.”

Oliver did not react. He knew Chase had to be doing some bad things to keep crime down. But killing common thieves and drug dealers was wrong. Chase had to be stopped. He was too much of a threat, and getting closer to taking innocent lives for things like jaywalking.

When Chase was done, he left the apartment.

Ollie curled up in the shower, thinking about how to stop Chase without putting his friends in danger. He looked down at his chest and noticed his tattoo. Bratva. That could work.

He washed up and went to work, taking care of his mayoral business.

Quentin Lance started talking to him. “Well, the city council bought my story about your, uh, spiritual retreat. And it turns out councilwoman Pollard is a big fan of all that stuff. You know, the woo-woo zen stuff,” he laughed, trying to cheer Ollie up, but it wasn’t working. “Look, eh, I'm not asking what he did to you, all right? All I got to know is what we're gonna do to him.”

“I mean, nothing. It's over,” Oliver replied, leaning back in his chair. But it wasn’t over. Chase was still pounding Ollie into a mattress whenever he felt like it.  And he was taking care of crime. He had been for weeks.

“Well, how do you figure that? Chase doesn't give up easy,” Quentin said. They’d talked about this countless times in the past few weeks.

“He doesn't need to do anything. He's already won,” Ollie replied, and his eyes looked even more hollow than normal.

There was a knock on the door.

“Mr. Mayor, your 11:00 is here,” his secretary said. It was Chase.

He came to the office. _Shit_ , Ollie thought to himself, closing his eyes momentarily.

“Thank you for your compassion in granting me bereavement leave, Mr. Mayor. Uh Doris' death has been very difficult,” the little psychopath looked oh so sad.

“Yeah? Well, maybe you shouldn't have killed her, then,” Quentin muttered, getting in Chase’s face.

“I'd like to speak to the mayor in private,” Chase whispered.

“That's not gonna happen,” Quentin said.

“Quentin, please just,” he looked at the door and Quentin scoffed but left. “What are you doing here?” he asked Chase when they were alone.

“I think you know,” Chase replied.

“It’s literally been 2 hours,” Ollie tried not to whine.

Chase raised an eyebrow. “Okay. And we can walk out of here hand-in-hand with our suits all messed up. That’ll go over well with the republicans in office.”

“Fuck you,” Oliver said.

“Since you asked so nicely.” Chase pulled down his pants and commanded Ollie to suck him off.

Ollie rolled his eyes but listened. First his home, now his office? Chase really was trying to torture him.

He pulled off, horrified. “Wait, I have to make this a do not disturb meeting or Shannon might walk in.”

“She can join,” Chase smirked.

Ollie didn’t respond. He called his secretary. “Please do not disturb me until my meeting is complete. The DA and I have a private matter to discuss.”

“Okay, I’ll field all calls,” she said, and hung up.

Ollie locked the door for good measure and went back to sucking Chase off. This was going too far. _I’m calling Anatoly tonight_ , he thought.

After he was done sucking Chase off, the DA had him bend over his own desk and pull down his pants. His hole was still stretched from the sex they’d had this morning, so Chase was able to enter pretty easily. It took him about ten minutes to orgasm, and then they both adjusted their suits to look presentable.

“Will you stop killing criminals?” he asked Chase.

The man grinned at him predatorially. “I thought you’d appreciate it,” he said. “That you’d want me to follow in your footsteps.”

Ollie shook his head but Chase was leaving. “We should make his meeting a regular briefing. Or should I say debriefing?” he joked as he left the office.

Oliver closed his eyes. That did it. He would call the Bratva as soon as he was able. Adrian Chase needed to die.

He typed the numbers into his cell phone. “I need your help, Anatoly,” he said.

“What trouble has Oliver Queen calling me?” he asked.

“Adrian Chase. I need you to kill him. Also,” his voice wavered, and he steadied it. “Kovar is still alive. He has at least 50 men.”

Anatoly cursed through the phone. “How do you know this?” he asked.

“Not important,” Ollie replied. “I just need you to come kill Adrian Chase.”

They chatted a bit more and Anatoly agreed to bring his best men.

* * *

Ten hours later, Anatoly was surrounded by Oliver and the supposedly disbanded team.

“I’m sorry that I lost sight of who we are in trying to kill Chase,” Ollie said. “We aren’t the types of people who will bring dangerous men to our city and let them wreak havoc.”

The team agreed.

“Anatoly, you are my brother. My last request is that you leave.”

“You called me here. What was problem, lover’s spat? You and Chase make up now? I leave, but you are not my brother anymore, Oliver,” he spat.

Ollie let him go.

The team was back and Chase was going to give him hell for it.

* * *

His phone dinged when he got to the Arrow Cave. He cursed to himself. Chase wanted him to be ready in five minutes.

He told the team he had to leave. Chase was waiting in his apartment.          

“You assured me I won. You said the team disbanded. Then why, tell me, was the team spotted with a man dressed in black?” Chase sounded enraged.

Oliver couldn’t talk. His instincts were screaming at him to kill this man, but he did not act on them. His shoulders slumped from their defensive position.

Chase fucked him harder than he ever had before. The nearly-faded finger shaped bruises on his hips were remade. Ollie was left with bruises on his torso that were clearly not from his fight with Anatoly.

“You have to learn a lesson,” Chase said as he left Ollie curled up in his bed riddled with bruises.

Oliver couldn’t move. He was sore, tired, angry, and afraid. Chase needed to die or everyone would know. But he couldn’t kill anymore. And he couldn’t have someone else kill for him.

He groaned in frustration. This was all his own damn fault for being a vigilante, going back to the hood over and over. Chase was right. No matter how much he tried to reinvent himself, he’d always end up killing, appealing to those feelings in him that were more than instinct.

He’d tried to leave. But he felt dead inside without the hood. When had the hood become a euphemism for the desire to kill?

And here he was, beaten and fucked and alone and it was his fault. All his fault for killing people from a fucking list. He punched his pillow. He wanted to sleep, and maybe not wake up from that sleep. _No, that’s not fair_ , he told himself. _There are people who’d be hurt if you did that_. All he knew was that he couldn’t wake up in his bed, the bed Chase ruined with all the memories.

He gulped. No, he would not cry here. Tears make you look weak and useless.

Ever so slowly, he pulled himself out of his bed. He lazily threw on a sweater and some sweatpants. Then he made his way to the Arrow Cave.

Luckily, it was empty. He pulled out the cot and fell asleep, feeling safer in his hideout.

* * *

 

John Diggle was worried about his friend. Ollie was acting so skittish and . He’d seen symptoms like this, but they usually came from females in third world countries. And what they’d gone through…no, Oliver hadn’t been assaulted like that.

He felt uneasy, so he snuck to Oliver’s apartment. The ‘fixing a pipe’ story did not sit well with John.

Sure enough, Ollie’s apartment was empty with no signs of plumbing work.

Diggle tried to remain calm. He decided to check the cave. If Ollie wasn’t there, he could panic.

He got into the cave and breathed out a sigh of relief when he saw Ollie sleeping peacefully on his cot.

Except he wasn’t sleeping peacefully. He was so tense, he could be in the rigor mortis stage of death.

John walked over to him. He had a split lip and a bruise on his face. As if sensing John by his bed, he shifted, and his sweatshirt rode up. His hip looked purple.

That didn’t make sense. John decided to get a better look. He grabbed the edge of Oliver’s thin sweatshirt and gently lifted it. The finger shaped bruises were easily distinguishable. He hid a gasp as he traced his hand over the five imprints.

“Stop!” the shout seemed to come out of nowhere.

Oliver woke up in a flurry of motion, and John found himself pinned against the cot with an arm constricting his breathing. 

* * *

 

Ollie was dreaming about crimefighting. It was a fun dream, and he was whooping as he slid on makeshift ziplines from building to building. But then he was being chased by Kovar and Chase and Anatoly. He ran across rooftops, but they eventually trapped him.

Then Kovar lifted his hoodie and started pushing at his hips.

“Stop!” he shouted, trying to pin the man in a choke hold.

His eyes shot open as he recognized the Arrow Cave. His arm was tightly held against a throat. He released it as soon as he saw his friend struggling for breath.

“John?” he asked.

Diggle coughed. “I think we need to talk,” he rasped.

Ollie looked down at himself and saw his sweater was pulled over his hip. He pulled it down, but John had already seen it.

“I went to your apartment to see if there was actually a burst pipe. Turns out everything was okay. So I came here to check on you and I saw…” his voice trailed off. “Just tell me what’s been going on with you. Please.”

Ollie looked down. “It’s nothing,” he muttered. “I’m fine. Walked into a pole.” He could tell his excuse was flimsy.

John pulled a chair next to the bed and sat down, massaging his throat. “Listen Oliver, I was in Afghanistan. I saw how some of those girls acted. I’ve seen these symptoms before. I’m just sorry I didn’t identify it earlier. So tell me who raped you.”

Ollie closed his eyes. He wanted to go back to sleep.

“Was it Chase? Is that why you stopped being Green Arrow?” John sounded a tiny bit satisfied at having a reason Ollie gave up the hood.

“Yes. No. Yes and no,” Ollie replied. “I should probably explain. Chase had sex with me and then he started blackmailing me by threatening to release pictures of it. So we’ve been having sex ever since.”

“It’s not having sex, it’s rape,” John stated.

“Not if I liked it! He made me comfortable. I fucking enjoyed it!” he shouted, face red.

John made a weird hushing sound and he calmed down a bit. “The body naturally reacts to certain things. I’m sure you know that when a male’s prostate is massaged he can get aroused. Well Chase knew that too, so I’m guessing he told you that because you got aroused, it wasn’t rape. And that’s wrong. You can’t control your body’s responses,” he said soothingly, as if talking his baby out of tears.

Ollie blinked tears out of his eyes. “So that’s just as bad as violent rape where the victim is used like a ragdoll?” he asked.

Diggle cocked his head in confusion. “Yes and no. It is equally non-consensual, but it seems like Chase did prepare you. A violent assault is more likely to result in anal tearing and bleeding.”

Ollie nodded. “I wanted to kill him John. What’s wrong with me?” he asked.

“Nothing,” Diggle said immediately. “Rapists are bastards who deserve to die. That son of a bitch deserves to die. If you don’t kill him, I will. For now, we will get rid of your phone, which I assume is how he’s contacting you.”

Ollie nodded again.

“I think you should get some help in the meantime. Therapists have dealt with this kind of thing,” John added.

Ollie shook his head. “No. He’d probably just kill any therapist I talk to. He’ll probably kill everyone because I threw out my phone. John, what do I do?”

John looked very serious. “We implicate this son of a bitch. He’ll be too busy escaping the FBI to torment you. Curtis said he was working on something for Felicity. We will kill him, Ollie.”

“Okay,” Ollie said. “Okay.”

“It’s over. He won’t hurt you again, Oliver,” John said.

Ollie wished he could believe that.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As I told my flamer, I understand that this story has some sensitive material (that is certainly not suitable for people under the age of 18). And if you don't like this kind of thing, I'd appreciate if you would just cease from reading it. It's not that hard. You just close the tab or click the back button. You don't have to shame me or the people who read this. Get it?
> 
> That's not to say that I am closed off to criticism or suggestions. I think every comment has the potential to be incredibly constructive, and I'm really grateful that I have so many comments. I get that people can be obsessed with fictional characters (this is obvious coming from someone writing about them), but it's important to remember that they are fictional and fanfiction does not hurt them.


	7. It Ends Tonight

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This chapter kind of messes with the canon because I am over the canon and its drawn out episodes. Also, I have to post these 2,000 words I've been sitting on forever. There is rape mentioned and I think some noncon in this chapter, but if you got this far, you should know what to expect. Hints of Olicity as well.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I want to preface this by saying I am awful. You might as well call me Lord Triangle BadEvil because that's what I am. I've pushed this off so much but I no longer have any excuses and I will nat be distracted by my Green Lantern fic(s), I will nat. Oh, hai Mark.   
> So I hope you can forgive me and enjoy this next installment. I should be updating more frequently now that finals are over and I only have work.   
> (Emphasis on should because I am terrible and evil and really really sorry)

Ollie looked down at the dead body. It had a note on it.

The note had a picture of him looking really aroused with his legs wrapped around Chase’s hips, and it wasn’t too hard to tell what they were doing in the picture.

There were three words of text on the sheet.

“I warned you,” it said.

He shivered. The corpse used to be a member of his cabinet. Breathing in deeply, he picked up the note and left.

Everyone had noticed a change in Oliver’s attitude. First he was subdued after being tortured, then he got better. Now he was going back to being quiet.

Diggle was the only one who could guess why.

“What happened, Ollie?” he asked gently.

“It’s nothing. I-” he cut off as a violent chill made its way through his body. He was afraid, not for his own life, but for the people he cared about.

The TV was muted so he turned up the volume to distract Diggle.

“Getting reports that Jim Dulkins, a member of Star City mayor Oliver Queen’s cabinet has been found dead-” he muted the TV again.

“He’s going after people close to me, John. Who’s next? Thea? Felicity? You?”

John gathered him in a hug and patted his back soothingly, making hushing noises.

Ollie let himself relax into it. Just when he was calling down, he heard heels clicking in the distance.

“I’ve done it!” Felicity exclaimed, before she walked in. Ollie quickly escaped Diggle’s hug. “I just got a video showing Chase’s weaselly little face to Quentin. Guess who’s going to prison.”

Ollie grinned. “He should still be in protective custody. Because the Green Arrow is after him. This is perfect!”

Felicity tossed her head, enjoying the praise.

“I told you we’d implicate him,” Diggle said.

Ollie laughed. “Yes you did. This is exactly what we needed!”

“Group hug!” Felicity declared, and pulled the three of them close.

 

He should have seen it coming. He should have known Adrian Chase was always 10 steps ahead.

Then Chase escaped.

“Chase escaped the arcade by using a secret tunnel that led to Port Newark,” Lylah said.

“Homeland Security's placed him on a no-fly list,” an agent said.

They were all in his office and it wouldn’t help if he started hyperventilating.

“No,” Ollie said evenly. “He's not gonna leave the country. He isn't done yet.” _He isn’t done with **me**_ , he thought.

“How do you know?” someone asked.

“Call it a hunch,” he said.

“A hunch? Mayor Queen, this city deserves better than a hunch,” the man replied. What was his name? Ollie didn’t have time to talk his way out of it before there was a knock on the door.

“Excuse the interruption,” Quentin said. Ollie raised an eyebrow at him. “I can't hold them off any longer,” he replied and Ollie nodded.

“Mayor Queen, is Adrian Chase going to strike again?” A reporter asked, and he somehow heard it over the clamor of the room full of reporters asking questions at the same time.

Great. The press.

“Ahem. All right. I can take a few questions,” he said, bracing himself for the worst. “Yes?” he called on one of the reporters.

“You worked side by side with Adrian Chase for months. How could you not know that you had a serial killer in your administration?” The reporter asked.

“Well, Mr. Chase's secret life came as a surprise to us all. I can say that we are currently following up some very promising leads,” he replied. Yep. Chase’s secret life as a blackmailer rapist was so surprising every time Ollie couldn’t sit.

“Are you saying you have no idea where he is?” the reporter followed up.

“No. I'm saying that the details of an ongoing investigation are confidential,” he answered. God, how many more of these did he need to do? “Yes?” he called on another journalist.

“I spent the afternoon speaking with Gay Eked's father. What do you have to say to him and the families of all of Prometheus' victims?” he asked emotionally.

“Well, I would say to them what I am saying to you. We are doing everything that we possibly can to bring Mr. Chase to justice,” he replied.

“Do you have anything for us other than canned platitudes?” the man implored.

Ollie slightly shook his head.

“What do you say about rumors that you and Mr. Chase were romantically involved?” another reporter asked.

Ollie schooled his expression. “That’s ridiculous. I am a straight man and even before I was informed of Mr. Chase’s secret life, I was not in any way attracted to him,” he replied bitingly. _Let Chase see that. It’s on,_ he thought.

“We have evidence that you and he had a secret meeting with the door locked just yesterday,” the reporter said. “What were you doing in there?”

“He was thanking me for giving him bereavement leave after the death of his wife. We talked about finding the throwing star killer. I did not know that’s who he was. Thank you all for your questions.”

He left.

A week. Chase was gone for a week and their only hope was the most dangerous hacker in the world. Felicity said this hacker had a biometric tracker that could pinpoint a single human heartbeat.

He let the hacker go. It was…Chase was too important to be allowed to roam free.

So Oliver and Felicity looked over the device.

 

They were just starting to argue over how he’d mistrusted her when a computer beeped.

“Tracker’s homing in on Chase’s location,” Felicity said, turning to the screen.

“Where is he?” Ollie asked, keeping the hysteria out of his voice.

“Chase-he’s here,” she sounded horrified, like someone who knew they were going to die.

Sure enough, the room exploded in light, and they both flew backward.

He woke up with his ears ringing. It was an EMP. It looked like Chase was gone.

He and Felicity started talking as they tried to figure their way out of the sealed bunker.

They resolved some old issues, but Felicity was looking at him like she used to and he didn’t get it. Why would she want him when he was so dirty? He’d been screwed by a whole sect of the Russian Bratva, not to mention the guy trying to kill him. But they talked and started mending things, things he thought would never be fixed. For a few moments, he had hope.

Then a tinny recording sounded. There was an unmistakable sound of flesh on flesh.

Felicity blushed. “I thought I turned that off,” she muttered, and Ollie grinned at her embarrassment. “I also thought there was an EMP. I can’t walk, but my porn turns on?”

His grin started to fade as he thought about what could have turned this on.

“Tell me you love me,” it was Chase’s voice. “Say I love you Adrian”

Felicity started speaking with her hands, like she did when she got flustered.

“Okay no,” she said, palm facing outwards in front of her. “I do not have porn of Adrian Chase, the guy who’s going to kill us.”

Ollie would normally be amused at her reaction, but his heart sunk.

“I love you, Adrian,” his own voice said, sounding hollow even over the recording.

“Good boy, Oliver,” Chase’s voice replied.

Felicity’s eyes grew as round as saucers.

“What? What am I missing here? You slept with Adrian!? You’re gay? Please tell me you didn’t now he was a killer,” she said.

Ollie covered his head in his hands. He knew he couldn’t lie, because the recording would tell the truth eventually.

“Stop! Not there, I’ll bruise and they’ll notice,” he sounded pathetic.

“Say please,” Chase said sadistically.

“Please don’t give me bruises on my _arms_ which I **bare** almost every _night_!” his voice was far from calm and he remembered being surprised by the ensuing laughter.

“You don’t bare your arms unless you’re playing vigilante, Mr. Mayor. And I thought I told you there’d be consequences for that. So I will do what I want unless. You. Beg.”

Felicity seemed to understand something and her expression morphed from shock to horror.

There was no response on the recording but a muttered “Fuck you, Adrian.”

“I think that’s what I’m doing to you. And you seem to be liking it, don’t you?” his recorded self let out a breathy gasp. “Would you rather I go public with this? Or maybe you just miss those big Russian men, you kinky bastard.”

Ollie was shaking on the ground. “Shut it off you bastard! Shut it off!”

Something clicked and there was an eerie laugh. “Have you checked on your son yet?” a too-familiar voice called down. The footsteps went away and Ollie shivered again.

Felicity pulled herself over to him by her arms.

“What did he do to you?” she whispered, though it looked like she knew the answer.

He looked away, head down.

“Ollie, what did he do?” there were tears in her eyes.

He pulled out the note Chase had left on the body a few weeks ago, picture and all and showed it to her.

“This is from when Chase captured me,” he started, voice rough. “He-he raped me. Then had, no, that’s not important. He made it feel good, you know? Then he let me go and started blackmailing me into sex with him. Diggle found out and put y’know a stop to things. This was left on Jim Dulkins’ body.”

“Oh my god, Ollie!” she cried, and hugged him. He flinched and then relaxed into her arms. “I’m so sorry. I’m sorry I didn’t see it. I should have-I knew something was wrong!”

He thought about Evelyn’s tears and compared them to Felicity’s. Felicity’s seemed so much more real and didn't make him feel guilty. He put an arm around her.

“I get it if you don’t want me anymore,” he told her. “I know we were fixing things, but if you want to leave…”

She kissed him, slow and passionate. When she pulled away, she swatted his arm. “Of course I still want you, you idiot! Nothing would change that!”

“Aww how sweet,” the voice came from far away, but it was unmistakable. The backup generators failed and they were all subjected to a darkness so thick, they could barely move.

“One moment Felicity, I just have an asshole to kill and then we’ll continue,” Ollie promised.

He picked up a gun and headed into the main area of the Arrowcave.

Felicity held onto his hand as he walked away, her slender fingers trying to hold on to his own. His hand slipped out of hers and he could practically feel her disappointment. In the dark, he could see a shadow in one corner. He stalked towards it, thinking of how satisfying it would be to see blood pour out of Chase’s head as his bullet zipped through that psychotic brain.

He was stalking the shadow when he heard Felicity gasp.

“Ah love,” Chase said sarcastically. He could hear Felicity’s ragged breathing and walked to where she had been. “It’s a little dark in here, don’t you think?” He snapped and all the lights turned on.

Ollie saw him with one arm around Felicity’s throat and the other holding her hand down. “Well, well, well,” he said, all evil villain-like. “I can see why you like her.” He sniffed her head and Ollie shivered.

“Don’t-don’t do anything to her,” he said, and there were tears in his eyes.

Chase grinned, manic as ever. “Are you going to beg? I love it when you beg!”

“Screw you,” Ollie narrowed his eyes at his tormentor. It was one thing when Chase fucked him and hurt him. But now he had Felicity and Ollie saw red.

Felicity grunted as one of her hands got free and she clocked Adrian in the face.

Ollie winced. She wouldn’t be able to protect herself when he decided to retaliate.

“Leave her alone. Leave them all alone,” he said, hollow. He breathed in deeply and contorted his face. “Please,” he added.

His tormentor laughed. “Mmm. I felt that one right in my-well, there’s a lady present. Say that again, Ollie. Make your eyes big and round. Or I’ll slice this bitch’s fucking throat wide open.” He pulled out a knife and pressed it against Felicity’s throat.

“No, please!” he begged, desperation evident in his voice.

Chase lowered the knife. “Walk to me,” he said, his voice congenial with a hungry undertone.

Ollie did as told, but he still held the gun.

Chase sighed and held the knife up warningly. “Take off all your weapons,” he added exasperatedly, like he expected Ollie to know to do that.

Ollie put the gun down and got rid of his other weapons as well.

“Hell, take off your clothes too,” Chase murmured. Ollie shook all over. He was going to do this in front of Felicity.

But Felicity wouldn’t be able to do anything about it with a knife against her throat. The only one that could do anything was him, by appeasing Chase.

He breathed in deep and started stripping. He could hear Felicity’s horrified gasp when she saw the bruises on his hips in the harsh cave lighting, still violently purple and finger shaped. When he had stripped completely, he walked over to Chase.

“I’m going to kill you one day,” he said. “It will be a slow death. I will use everything I learned about how to torture a man. When you beg for death, I will not be merciful.”

Chase smiled happily at him. "You won't kill me. Now I'm going to take Felicity and all your little friends somewhere special. If you try to stop me, I'll do to her what I've done to you. We'll meet again on Lian Yu, Mr. Mayor. Your kid says hi."

Ollie growled, but then he saw beads of blood dripping from Felicity's throat. He made himself stand down. 

"You will die," he promised Chase.

"Probably," the villain responded. "And you will know true pain before that happens. Now heel, boy."

Ollie thought about Felicity. Chase wasn't threatening to destroy the world, just Ollie's life. He caught her eyes one last time before Chase turned off the lights.

 _I'll always find you_ , he promised. It was time to call for some backup.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I did use dialogue from some of the episodes in this. Hope you enjoyed and don't think I'm literally the worst. I love all the reviews, guys.


	8. I will not Bow

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ummmm hi. So I reread this fic from the beginning and it's pretty okay, so I decided to give you some more because you guys are totally the best. I wrote it a while ago and it's not much because I'm losing steam, but the story has to conclude itself eventually.  
> I know on Arrow Ollie always bounces back, but I don't think he will after I'm done with him.

Ollie wiped at his face aggressively. He was naked on the floor of the Arrowcave and Chase had Felicity. And Will. And everyone else he loved.

But he would get them back. He was now pissed off. Chase had fucked him for the last time.

He dialed a few numbers into his phone.

 

“How you holding up, kid?” Slade asked him when they were sitting on the small plane.

“I’m fine,” Ollie tensed.

“You don’t look fine. You look terrible,” Malcolm Merlyn sneered.

“I don’t remember asking your opinion,” Slade bit back in Ollie’s defense.

“I ain’t feelin’ too great,” Digger Harkness grumbled as the plane started to descend.

“Thanks for telling me. I was so worried,” Merlyn said. “What the hell kind of name is Harkness, anyway? ‘G’day mate, I’m Captain Boomerang Harkness. I’m Captain Harkness’,” he said in a terrible Australian accent.

Ollie rolled his eyes. These were bad people he was working with, but he needed the backup.

They made their descent into Lian Yu, Ollie’s hell. “Split up,” Ollie ordered. “The island is dangerous. Watch out for land mines and super steroids,” he grinned at Slade.

“Where will you go?” Slade asked him.

“I’m finding Chase. His face has an appointment with one of my arrows and I’d hate for him to miss it,” Ollie said.

“Look, kid, that guy is insane,” Slade warned him. “Be careful, okay?”

Ollie smiled at him.

Malcolm cleared his throat and they all looked at him. “I don’t want to tell you to be careful. Personally hoping Chase kills you, actually. I really hate you.”

Ollie smirked. “Thanks,” he said.

They all turned to Boomerang. “I don’t really know who you are, mate. But don’t die, eh?” he said.

Ollie let them go their separate ways and thought about where Chase could be. Would he be on the island? There was something weird about that. With Chase, it was all about the distractions, and radar had picked up a small boat near the island.

Ollie decided to trust his instincts when it came to Chase, even if he was wrong.

A part of him knew Chase would be detached, watching the action from afar.

He made his way to the small boat.

As he swam to it, he saw Chase wave at him.

“You found me,” Chase grinned. “Come on board.”

Ollie climbed onto the boat. Chase looked very happy. “You couldn’t just leave things like they were,” he said. “You had to screw everything up and go back to your serial killer ways.”

Ollie paused. Chase was going somewhere with this.

“I warned you that everyone close to you would perish. But I’ll give you a choice. Hey, William?” he called out.

And Ollie’s son came out shaking. “Where’s my mom? You promised you’d save my mom,” he said.

Chase grinned predatorially. “I promised a parent. Here’s the other one.” He held the shaking child against his chest like a shield.

Then he trained his gun on William. “Way I see it, you have a few choices. Kill me and that island explodes in flames. Don’t kill me and I kill your precious little son. What’ll it be?” he asked

“I don’t trade lives,” Ollie said. But if he could stall for time, he’d be able to give his friends on the island time to get away.

“William it is,” Chase grinned and shot his son in the side.

The boy coughed and gurgled blood. Ollie rushed to his side and put pressure on the wound, but William had already passed out.

It felt like the world had stopped. Everything faded away until the only color was the red stain growing from William’s wound. The only sounds were the boy’s choked gasps and convulsions. Ollie felt his eyes start to water. Then he saw red.

“No!” he screamed with pain and anger. “You killed my son,” he said quietly. “You’ll die for that.”

Chase grinned. “The rest of your friends die with me,” he said. “So go on and shoot me. Or maybe I’ll shoot myself. I haven’t got much to live for, except for your torment.”

Ollie sobbed over his son’s body. It wasn’t enough time. If Chase died now, his friends had no chances.

“You know, I do have a last request,” Chase smirked as he held the gun to his own skull. “I want to fuck you, right here, right now. Or I’ll kill myself.”

Ollie barely registered the threat as some part of him urged him to follow through. He pulled off his clothes and heard the gun clatter as Chase did the same.

He couldn’t even feel it, couldn’t feel the dick in his ass, thrusting painfully, dry.

He barely registered Chase laughing as he said “don’t you remember? Everything you touch dies.” Barely heard the gunshot or felt blood spatter on his body, the cock in his ass soften.

His senses went haywire as he just saw the island he once called hell go up in flames, he couldn’t hear anything because his head was pounding loudly. Chase had taken everything from Ollie. 

He pulled himself off the dead man’s cock and dressed.

He knelt next to his dead son.

At least he had a body to bury.

At least he knew his son was dead.

He felt the boy’s wrist in a last ditch attempt, _praying_ to whoever was listening and cried as he found nothing.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> PS: Boomer died tragically on the island by accidentally tripping and bashing his head on a landmine which then exploded in his face. Everyone cried, it was so sad.


End file.
